“Where did you get that scarf?” She acted as though Megan had stolen it, and the pretty young woman gave a start and then rapidly recovered. It had almost been Jane's point, but in the end, it was Megan's.
“Oh …that… I got it from a friend a long time ago. When I lived in France.” She instantly knew what she had to do and Bernie was grateful to her. It was as though they had begun a conspiracy, without ever intending to, but now they were suddenly partners.
“You did?” Jane looked surprised. She thought Bernie was the only person in the world who knew Hermes.
“Yes.” She sounded totally credible, and calmer now. “I lived in Provence for a year. Have you been to Paris with your daddy, Jane?” she asked innocently, and Bernie concealed a smile. She was good with kids. Hell, she was great with them. And Alex was cuddling up to her happily with little warm noises and snuggles. And having eaten all her strawberries, he was now assisting her with her eggs, and gobbled a piece of her bacon.
“No, I haven't been to Paris. Not yet. But I've been to New York.” She suddenly felt important.
“That's terrific. What do you like best there?”
“Radio City Music Hall!” Unwittingly, she was getting pulled into it. And then suddenly she looked suspiciously at Megan. She had just remembered that she didn't want to like her, and she refused to continue the conversation, answering only in monosyllables until Megan left.
Bernie apologized to her as he walked her to the car. “I feel terrible. She's never rude like that. It must be some kind of jealousy.” He was genuinely upset and Megan shook her head and smiled at him. He was an innocent in matters she understood only too well. The heartaches and dilemmas of children.
“Stop worrying about it. It's perfectly normal. You and Alex are all she's got. She's defending her turf.” Her voice was gentle, but she didn't want to cause him pain by being too blunt with him. He was still fragile too, and she knew it. “She's defending her mother's memory. It's very hard for her to see a woman around you, even a nonthreatening one.” She smiled. “Just don't take any sexy blondes home to her, or she'll poison them for you.” They both laughed as he opened the car door for her.
“I'll remember that. You handled her beautifully, Meg.”
“Don't forget that's my line of work, more or less. You sell bread. I know kids. Sometimes.” He laughed and leaned toward her, suddenly wanting to kiss her, and then just as quickly backed off, horrified by his own reaction.
“I'll try to keep that in mind too. See you soon, I hope.” And then he remembered what he'd wanted to ask her. Thanksgiving was only two weeks away, and they weren't coming back till then. “Do you want to have Thanksgiving dinner with us?” He had thought a lot about asking her, all the way home from New York in fact.
She looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you think Jane is ready for that? Don't push her too fast.”
“What am I supposed to do? Sit alone in my room for the rest of my life?” He sounded like a disappointed child. “I have a right to friends, don't I?”
“Yes. But give her a chance to catch her breath. Why don't I just come for dessert? That might be a good compromise.”
“Do you have other plans?” He wanted to know who she was seeing. She seemed so busy all the time, and he wondered with whom. It was hard to believe her work could keep her that busy and yet it seemed to.
“I told Patrick's wife, Jessica, I'd give her a hand. They have relatives coming from out of town, and she could use a hand cooking dinner. Why don't I get her on her feet and then come here?”
“Anything else you're planning to do? Give mouth-to-mouth to someone on the way?” He was amazed by her. She was constantly doing something for somebody. And rarely for herself.
“It's not as bad as that, is it?” She looked surprised. She never thought of it. It was just the way she was, and one of the things he liked best about her.
“Seems to me you're always doing things for everyone but yourself,” Bernie said with concern in his eyes.
“I get what I need out of it, I suppose. I don't need much.” Or at least she never had before. But lately she was wondering. There were things that seemed to be missing from her life. She knew it when Alexander stood looking up at her and pointing at her lap, and even when Jane stared at her so angrily. Suddenly she was tired of just looking into ears and down throats and testing reflexes.
“See you on Thanksgiving then. For dessert if nothing else.” But he was still disappointed she wouldn't come for more, and he secretly blamed it on Jane, and was annoyed with her when he went back inside again. And even more so when she spoke up against Megan.
“Boy, is she ugly, isn't she, Daddy?” She was looking piercingly at him and he glared at her.
“I don't think so, Jane. I think she's a very good-looking girl.” He was not going to let her get to him, no matter what.
“Girl? Yuck! She looks about four hundred years old.”
He clenched his jaw and looked at her, trying to speak quietly. “Why do you hate her so much?”
“Because she's dumb.”
“No.” He shook his head. “She's not dumb. She's very smart. You don't get to be a doctor by being dumb.”
“Well, I don't like her anyway.” There were suddenly tears in her eyes, and a plate slipped from her hands and broke as she tried to help Nanny Pip clear away the dishes.
Bernie walked over to her quietly. “She's just a friend, sweetheart. That's all she is.” Megan was right. Jane was frightened of a woman coming into his life. He could see that now. “I love you very much.”
“Then don't let her come here anymore.” She was crying now and Alexander was staring at her, worried but fascinated, with no idea of what they were talking about.
“Why not?”
“We don't need her here, that's why.” And with that, she ran from the room and slammed her bedroom door, and Nanny Pip looked at him quietly and held up a hand as he made a move to follow her.
“Leave her alone for a little while, Mr. Fine. She'll be all right. She has to learn that things aren't always going to be this way.” She smiled gently at him. “I hope not anyway, for your sake. And for Jane's. I like the doctor very much.” She made “very” sound like “vera.”
“So do I.” Bernie was grateful for the encouragement. “She's a nice woman and a good friend. I wish Jane hadn't gotten so worked up about nothing.”
“She's afraid of losing you.” It was exactly what Megan had said.
“She'll never do that.”
“Be sure you tell her so. Frequently. And for the rest, she'll just have to get used to it. Go slowly …and she'll come around.” Go where? He wasn't going anywhere. With Megan or anyone. And he looked at Nanny solemnly.
“It's nothing like that, Nanny Pip. That's what I wanted Jane to understand.”
“Don't be so sure of that.” Nanny looked at him honestly. “You have a right to more than the life you're leading now. It wouldn't be healthy to live like this for the rest of your life.” She knew exactly how celibate he was, and she also knew about the closet full of clothes that he and Jane still wandered into now and then, pretending to look for something else. She thought it was time to get rid of them, but she also knew he still wasn't ready.
Chapter 39
Megan was true to her word and came for dessert after Thanksgiving dinner with Patrick and Jessica, and the new baby, and she brought a mince pie she had made herself. Nanny said it was wonderful, but Jane said she'd had enough to eat, and Bernie had a piece, and was surprised at how good it was.
“You don't know how amazing it is.” She looked pleased with herself, and was wearing a red dress she had bought at Wolffs the day she had drinks with him. “I am literally the worst cook in the world. I can barely boil an egg, and my coffee tastes like poison. My brother begs me never to walk into his kitchen.”
“He sounds like a character.”
“In this case he's right.” Jane grinned in spite of herself, and Alex sidled up to her again
, and this time climbed onto her lap without asking permission. She gave him a taste of the mince pie, but he spat it out. “See, Alexander knows. Right?” He nodded solemnly and everyone laughed at him.
“My mom was a terrific cook, wasn't she, Daddy?” The comparison was half obnoxious and half sad as Jane said it.
“Yes, she was, sweetheart.”
“She used to bake a lot.” She remembered the heart-shaped cookies on the last day of school and it almost made her cry as she stared unhappily at Megan.
“I admire that. I think it's nice to know those things.”
Jane nodded. “She was real pretty too.” Her eyes were sad and it was suddenly more a memory than a comparison, as Bernie listened. It hurt hearing it, but he knew she needed to say it. “She was blond and kind of skinny and little.”
Megan smiled at him. There was certainly no question of his being attracted to her because she looked like his late wife. In fact, she was almost exactly the opposite, and in a way, she felt better about that. People so often tried to duplicate what they had lost, and it made everything so difficult. It was impossible to stand in someone's shadow as the sun moved on. And she looked at Jane gently now. “You won't believe this, but my mom is skinny and blond and little too. And so is my brother.”
Jane laughed at the thought. “For real?”
“For real. My mom's about this high.” She pointed to her shoulder and smiled. “I look just like my father.” In either case, no loss. They were both handsome people.
“Is your brother short like your mom?” Jane was suddenly fascinated and Bernie smiled. Maybe there was some hope that Jane would calm down after all.
“Yes, he is. I always call him the dwarf.”
“I'll bet he hates you for that.” Jane giggled at the thought and Megan grinned.
“Yes, I guess he does. Maybe that's why he's a psychiatrist, so he can figure it out.” They all laughed at that, and Nanny brought her a cup of tea, and the two women exchanged a knowing smile. She took Alexander away for his bath after that, and Megan helped Bernie and Jane clear the table. They threw things out, put food away, scraped, rinsed, and loaded the dishwasher, and when Nanny came back again, everything was done. She had been about to say that it was nice having a woman around the house and then thought better of it, and just thanked all of them for cleaning up, which was more diplomatic.
Megan stayed for another hour after that, chatting with all of them, sitting in front of the fire, and then her beeper went off, and she let Jane call the answering service for her, and she listened in while Megan took the call. Someone had choked on a turkey bone. They had gotten it out fortunately, but now the child's throat was badly scratched. And as she hung up, her beeper went off again. A little girl had cut her hand on the carving knife and needed to be stitched up.
“Urghk.” Jane made a face. “That one sounded terrible.”
“Some of them are. But I don't think that one will be too bad. No fingers lopped off or anything messy like that.” She smiled at Bernie over her head. “Looks like I'm going to have to go.”
“Do you want to come back again?” He was hoping she would, but she still wanted to be cautious about Jane.
“I think it might be late by then. Somehow you never finish as quickly as you think you will. You don't want me pounding on your door at ten o'clock tonight.” He wasn't entirely sure of that, and they were all sorry when she left, even Jane, and Alex especially, who came looking for her after his bath, and cried when Jane told him she'd gone.
It reminded Bernie of what the children didn't have, and he wondered if Nanny Pip was right, that their lives wouldn't always be that way. But he couldn't imagine changing it now. Except of course that one day they'd move to New York, although he never thought about it anymore. He was content in California these days.
They went to New York for Christmas without seeing Megan again. They didn't have time to go back up, with all that Bernie had to do in the store, and there was plenty for the children to do in town. Nanny took them both to the Nutcracker and the children's show at the symphony. They went to see Santa Claus at Wolffs, of course. Alex was enthralled by him, and now that she was nearly ten, Jane didn't believe in him anymore, but she went anyway to humor Alex.
And Bernie called Megan once before they left. “Have a wonderful holiday,” he wished her fervently. She deserved it, after all she did for everyone, all year round.
“You too. Give my love to Jane.” She had sent her a warm pink scarf and hat for the trip to New York, but they hadn't arrived yet when Bernie talked to her. And she had sent Alex a cuddly Santa doll.
“I'm sorry we won't be seeing you before the holidays.” Sorrier than she knew. He'd been thinking of her a lot in recent weeks.
“Maybe I'll see you in New York,” she said thoughtfully.
“I thought you were going to Boston to see your family.”
“I am. But my crazy brother and sister-in-law are going to New York and absolutely insisting that I come. One of our fancier cousins is getting married, with a great to-do at the Colony Club. I'm not sure I could stand an event like that, but they seem to want me to come along, and I said I'd think about it.”
She had agreed so she could see him in New York, but now she felt foolish admitting it to him. But he was excited at the prospect of seeing her.
“Will you let me know if you're coming down?”
“Of course. I'll see what's on the agenda when I arrive, and I'll call you as soon as I know.” He gave her the number in Scarsdale, and hoped she would call him.
And that night when he went home, he found the huge box of presents she had sent to them. The hat and scarf for Jane, the Santa doll for Alex, a Pringle sweater for Nanny Pip, which was exactly what she liked, and a beautiful leather-bound book for him. He saw immediately that the book was old, and discerned easily that it was also rare, and her note said that it had been her grandfather's and had brought her through hard times and she hoped it would do the same for him. She wished him happy things in the coming year, and a Merry Christmas to all of them. And as he read her note, he felt lonely for her. He was sorry they weren't spending the holidays in the same town, and that life had to be so complicated sometimes. Christmas was lonely for him. It reminded him of Liz, and their anniversary. And he was quiet on the flight east. Too quiet, Nanny thought. He was thinking of Liz, she could tell from the grief etched on his face. He was still so lonely for her.
And on her own flight, Megan was thinking of her old fiance, and Bernard, and quietly comparing them. They were two very different men and she respected them both. But it was Bernie she missed now, and she called him that night just to talk to him. His mother was stunned when the phone rang, almost as soon as they got home, and Nanny was putting the children to bed. His mother handed the phone to him with a worried look. She had said she was Doctor Jones, and his mother continued to hover nearby until he waved her away nervously. She thought someone was sick, and Bernie almost laughed as he took the phone. He would have to explain to her afterwards, he knew. But he was anxious to talk to Megan first. He was dying to talk to her in fact.
“Megan?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “How was the trip?”
“Not bad.” She sounded happy to hear him, too, and faintly embarrassed to have been the one to call. But she didn't give a damn. She had suddenly been so lonely for him once she arrived in Boston again, that she had had an irresistible urge to reach out to him. “It's always strange coming home again at first. It's as though they forget we're grown up, and they start ordering you around like a kid. I always forget that till I come home again.” He laughed, he always felt the same way. And he still remembered how odd he and Liz had felt staying in his old room. It was like being fourteen years old again, and sex was taboo. He preferred staying at a hotel, but with the kids there was no point. And they had come to share the holidays with their grandparents. In some ways it was less lonely here, with them, than staying at a hotel, but he knew exactly what Megan me
ant.
“I know exactly what you mean. It's like taking a step back in time and proving they were right all along. You are fourteen years old, and you've come back to do it their way this time …except you don't. And eventually everyone gets pissed at you.”
She laughed. In Boston, they already were. Her father had gone to do a delivery an hour after she arrived, and she hadn't wanted to go with him because she was tired, and he had left, obviously annoyed at her, while her mother had scolded her for not bringing boots that were warm enough, and folding everything in her suitcase wrong. And an hour after that, she had chided her for leaving her room a mess. It was difficult after eighteen years of living alone, to say the least. “My brother said he'd rescue me tonight. They're having a dinner party at their house.”
“Will that be Boston sedate, or completely nuts?”
“Probably both, knowing them. He'll probably get completely drunk, and someone else will take off all their clothes, probably some Jungian analyst who gets gassed on his lethal punch. He loves doing things like that.”
“Watch out he doesn't get you.” It was strange thinking of her in that milieu, and lonely for him. He realized how much he missed her suddenly, and he wasn't sure if he could say that to her. It seemed inappropriate in their friendship somehow, and yet there was more to it than that, and there was a great deal to be explored. “Are you coming to that wedding down here?” He was counting on it, but didn't tell her so.
Fine Things Page 34